Lost and Found
by ScullysGone
Summary: A half-dead man stumbles into Scully's life and changes everything. Bad summary - please READ AND REVIEW!
1. A Life for a Life

Ok, the usual - they aren't mine and I didn't call Chris Carter and ask for permission.

However, they have been used without any ill intentions or dreams of making it rich in the real world - this is for me and for you and for fun.

This is a joint-effort story - a MILLION BILLION ZILLION thanks to my awesome Sunshine!

Shannon, your friendship and collaboration is probably the single most awesome thing to happen to me since I found out I was pregnant with the little sailor! Thank you for EVERYTHING!

Please read and review!

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_A Life For a Life_

_Orders barked in ear-splitting volume melted into low, distorted tones - the deep hum filled the air. The panicked pace of guns pulled from holsters and waistbands and hidden pockets under black trench coats became an erie slow-motion movie in front of her eyes. Just like one of Mulder's cheesey black-and-white numbers where the action was a cacophony of noises and movements and then the camera would slow down dramitcally as it paned the entire scene._

_She saw each face as if looking at the television screen - the camera hitting every bad guy's sweaty features in succession, enhancing the drama and the evil. Then to the hero with his determined eyes, mouth open in protest as he summoned his strength for the final showdown. Finally the heroine, frozen in fear as she looked death in the face. It was almost laughable thinking of that typical woman, helpless in her fragility._

_But apparently she was the heroine in this movie. All-together incomprehensible since she had never played the damsel in distress in her entire life - and she was certain the boy was the one in need of saving. And yet here she was, watching his thin but sturdy frame lunge in her direction, eyes open wide and wet with fresh tears. An inaudible scream escaping from his gaping mouth, she felt his right hand heavy in the middle of her chest as he shoved her off-balance to the floor below._

_Falling, she saw the muzzle flash from the shot gun that only miliseconds ago had been aimed directly at her. The blast a muted thump in her ears, she watched the recoil force the shooter's stance to waiver only slightly, his sure footing and skill evident. Then the boy, his graceful flight in front of her thrown off its path as the projectiles assaulted his body - his torso collapsing around the force of the impact, sending him backwards to land on top of her. _

_He felt so heavy, covering her like an enormous bag of sand only half-full and changing shape to match the curves of her body trapped underneath. Like dead weight._

_Suddenly there was no sound, the fury of the gun fight around her completely erased as she desperatly strained to hear him breathing. Was his chest rising and falling or was he simply moving with her? She stopped mid-exhale and forced the trembling muscles in her chest to still. _

_And felt nothing..._


	2. Out of the Blue

The usual - I don't own Mulder, Scully, or the X Files - this is not for profit - its for fun, for me and for you!

Please read and review!

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**Out Of The Blue**

Max stumbled into the emergency room more dead than alive. Blood fell in a steady stream from his dangling left arm and deep lacerations criss-crossed his scalp and face. Falling to his knees just inside the sliding glass doors, a low moan oozed out of his lungs before the muscles in his torso gave out completely and he fell face-first with a thick thudding against the tile.

A burley man sitting two chairs away from the door hollered with a baritone gravel and limped from his chair to Max.

"Hey! Somebody get out here! I think this guy just died!"

Across the room a little boy flush with fever raised his head from his mother's lap, big brown eyes widened by the scene playing out before him. He stared at the bloody man on the floor and she quickly scooped the lad to her bosom and hid his face.

Paramedic Jimmy Collie walked from the covered driveway through the automatic doors and nearly tripped over Max's body. He instinctively grabbed the radio on his hip and knelt beside the unconscious man.

"Moose! Get that stretcher back in here!"

Forcing two fingers into the crease of Max's neck, Collie felt for a carotid pulse. Faint but present, he moved his hand from the sticky flesh as his partner came through the door.

"He's got a pulse but he's gonna bleed out if we don't get him through those doors fast."

Moose slung a large green duffel off his shoulder and unzipped the middle compartment. Collie threw up a hand to stop him.

"Forget the collar - if he wakes up paralyzed, he can sue us."

Tossing the bag aside Moose took two steps to the opposite side of the patient and reached across Max's back. He grabbed a handful of bloody shirt and pants and pulled, flipping the unconscious man over.

"Damn, J! Somebody beat the piss outta this guy!"

Collie looked apologetically at the mother trying desperately to spare her little one's innocence and then threw a death glare at his partner.

"Shut up, Moose! Just get under his shoulders and get him on the stretcher. I swear you talk too much!"

With a heave the two men lifted Max's dead weight and plunked him down on the Stryker frame, dropped the wheels with practiced cadence and made a beeline for the doors leading to the patient care area. Nursing staff waiting on the other side made a path to the main trauma bay where the attending emergency physician stood at the ready.

"What the hell happened?"

Collie spoke without looking up from the stretcher, moving it into position beside the hospital gurney as he gave what little information he had.

"No clue. I was headed back inside to get my run sheet signed and I damn-near fell over him. I don't know how the hell he got here - it's like he just appeared out of the blue."

Nurses and technicians grabbed handfuls of sheet and moved Max's body off the stretcher and onto the gurney. Collie pushed the empty stretcher at his partner and moved in to help.

"Moose, get on the phone and call dispatch. Tell 'em we got tied up here and that we will be back in service as soon as we can. Tell Rick I'll call him as soon as I get through."

"On it!"

Collie turned back to the patient, took out his trauma shears and started cutting the unconscious man's clothes off. All around him the mix of voices called out assessments and orders like a well-oiled machine.

"GCS is 3, Doc."

"What's his pressure?"

"Eighty-two over forty and falling. Respirations are shallow at nine. Pupils are dilated and sluggish."

"That's a trauma score of 5 folks. Lets get a portable head and chest x-ray STAT. I need a number four Mac and a size 8 ET tube. Call the OR - tell Dr. Scully to get her team ready..."

"I got a bleeder over here, Doc!"

"Where is it?"

"Left brachial - right there."

"Give me some hemostats. Let Vascular know they'll have an arterial repair - I want three units O neg and two FFP's STAT and get those lines in!"

"IV's are in."

"60 of Lidocaine and call radiology - I want him scanned head to toe as soon as he comes out of the OR. Where's my ET tube?!"

"Here, doctor!"

"I have the cords - ok, I'm in - tape it at twenty-two centimeters and bag him. Get a collar on him and get that ventilator going."

"Pressure's still falling, Doc. Sixty-eight over thirty-two."

"He's got a hot belly, Doc."

"Alright, get an abdomen-pelvis. He looks around one-hundred forty pounds - start him on Dopamine at 5 per and let's see if we can get his pressure up. What's the rest of him look like, Eric?"

"Bottom-half looks ok, Doc. Some abrasions, old bruises and a few fresh ones coming up on but nothing concerning. Pelvis is stable."

"I want a Foley. Anybody check his back? What are his sats?"

"O neg and FFP's hanging."

"Sating ninety on one-hundred percent O-two and dropping - left side is absent breath sounds."

"Let's roll him folks, on my count - one, two, three."

"Looks like blunt-force to the left side of his chest back here - definitely feeling some crepitus - I'm guessing two maybe three ribs fractured, possibly a flail segment. Probably got a hemothorax."

"Eric, get that chest tube tray open."

"Foley's in. Urine is clear."

"Got blood in the ET tube, Doc."

"Alright, lets get that chest cleared."

"OR is on the phone - Dr. Scully says she's ready when you are."

"Chest tube's in - damn that's a lot of blood. Where are my films?"

"Coming up now, Doc."

"No skull fractures. Might be some bleeding to the left temporal but it looks small. Let Dr. Scully know to watch for increased pressure. C-spine looks clear. No flail segment but good call on the fracture count, Eric. I see three for sure."

"Abdominal series won't be back for a few more minutes, Doc. System went hay-wire - they had to reboot."

"Well, let's not wait on the IT team to get their shit together. Get this guy downstairs and see if Scully can't patch him up. Let's move people!"

Collie stood in the corner of the trauma bay and watched the circus leave town, three nurses, two ER technicians and a respiratory therapist surrounding the gurney as it disappeared around the corner. He looked around at the disaster area, pools of blood, trash and soiled clothing littering the floor, and couldn't help but smile. He never really wanted people to knock on death's door - but damn if it wasn't the best part of the job when they did.


	3. What's in a Name

**What's in a Name?**

"Hey there, sleepyhead."

Doctor Dana Scully looked down at the young man in the hospital bed trying desperately to will his eyes open against the heaviness of his eyelids - the morphine drip running through his veins for over 24 hours was being slowly weened.

"You had me worried," she said softly.

His lids fluttered open just long enough for Scully to see the bright blue eyes hidden beneath before falling shut again. A moan and a throaty plea for water met the silence and Scully reached for the pitcher beside the bed. Gently placing the straw to his lips, he took a few large sips before being seized by a coughing fit. She saw the pain it was causing him and tried to ease him back against the pillows until the coughing subsided.

"Slow your breathing. That's it. Try to relax."

The man laid back against the pillows and took a ragged breath, wincing once more.

"Where am I? What happened?" he asked quietly.

"I was hoping you would tell me," came Scully's honest reply. "I was told you stumbled into the emergency room an inch from death and collapsed. You're very lucky to be alive - you lost an enormous amount of blood."

"Who are you?"

His eyes had finally begun to focus and Scully could tell his brain was trying to work a hundred miles a minute.

"I'm Doctor Scully. I was on duty when you were wheeled into my operating room looking for a miracle."

"You saved me?" His question was so sincere, so full of emotion. It reminded her of a certain conversation long ago, from a time so far gone that it took a few moments of reminiscing to see it clearly in her mind. The nostalgia made her heart ache, and she quickly brushed the memory away, focusing once again on her patient. He was still gazing at her as if she really was a heroine. Strangely drawn to this young man of whom she knew nothing about, she gave him a shy smile and lowered her eyes.

"You were very lucky - and I was just doing my job." She sighed and patted his hand, the moment lingering a second too long.

"So," she said, inhaling a focused breath and putting both hands in the pockets of her lab coat, "now that you are awake, let's start with how you're doing. Are you hurting anywhere?"

He nodded without thinking and quickly moved his hand to the left side of his head.

"Headache? That's to be expected - you took quite a few blows to that side of your face. There was a small bleed in the temporal area of your brain but it is healing. How is your vision?"

He blinked a couple of times and half-whispered, "It's pretty blurry right now."

Scully picked up the Toughbook computer from the counter behind her and briefly skimmed through her notes and the patient's radiology reports.

"It seems you took some heavy blows from a rather sharp object - we sutured or stapled three seperate lacerations on your head. We also had to repair a partially-severed artery in your left arm. Good news - you get to keep that arm."

He gave her a weak but endearing smile, the center of his forehead arching in an oddly familiar manner. The hollow in the middle of her stomach fluttered almost imperceptibly, still taking her off guard and mussing her concentration.

"Umm, you have three broken ribs, and umm, those will take some time to heal...and you had to be given four units of blood. I found a small tear in your spleen but it was easily repaired. I'm recommending you stay for a while longer, so I can monitor your head injury and get your blood work back to normal."

He stared at her, a blank expression on his face. Alarmed, Scully moved closer and touched his hand.

"What is it?"

After a tense minute, he finally spoke.

"I don't know." He sounded disappointed and a little frightened. Darting his eyes from her face to the door and back again, she felt his pulse quicken as she held his hand, the palm starting to sweat.

"I don't know...oh my god!"

"Calm down," she cooed softly at the distressed man, suddenly realizing she didn't know his name. Unconscious from the time he was wheeled into the trauma room, he hadn't spoken to anyone since his arrival - no identification had been found in his clothing either. Grateful to have small talk to distract him, Scully forced her face into his line of sight.

"I just realized how rude I've been - I haven't asked your name."

He stared, eyes narrowing a bit as if in deep concentration. Again, she found his movements familiar and distracting.

"Max," came the stunted reply.

"Good, that's good, Max. Do you have a last name?"

"Nobody..." he trailed off into silence, staring at the empty wall across the room.

"Your name is Max Nobody?"

Another pause before a weak, "I don't know."

The frustration was evident on his face. Scully squeezed his hand gently, overwhelmed with the need to comfort him.

"Max, I want you to listen to me. You've suffered enormous trauma. You have a concussion, and you lost a great deal of blood. Retrograde amnesia is not uncommon in this type of situation. Do you hear me?"

She forced his eyes to lock with hers and continued, "A little rest, some food, and time is all you need, Max. It will come back, I promise."

Her reassurances surprised her - she was the absolute least likely doctor in the entire hospital to make promises she wasn't certain she could keep. She wasn't one of those that said things simply to calm her patients - she'd learned truth was best in all situations. But now, with Max, she found herself desperately wanting to erase the fear she saw deep in his eyes.

"Why can't I remember?" he interrupted, his voice rising in volume.

"Calm down, Max." Scully could see him starting to panic and wanted to stop him before he did something to aggravate his injuries.

"I don't even know my own name!"

"Hey hey hey... shhh…" she soothed as if talking to a child. Her few years at Our Lady of Sorrows Hospital had given her plenty of experience in dealing with frightened patients. "It's going to be ok, Max. You'll remember - I'll help you. We'll just have to give it some time."

Max's shoulders dropped slightly and his breathing relaxed. Scully watched with minor fascination at how her voice seemed to calm him better than any sedative she might have considered. Listening to what she was saying, she was surprised to find she actually meant every word. It would be all right - he would remember eventually and she had every intention of being right beside him when he did.

Watching Max's eyes disappear behind heavy lids, Scully continued speaking softly to him until he slipped into what she hoped would be a restful and restorative oblivion.


End file.
